


Our Time Will Come

by TrenchcoatRats



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Actual Emotional Disaster Sentinel Prime, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, M/M, Nonbinary Jazz and Prowl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-09-24 21:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20365144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrenchcoatRats/pseuds/TrenchcoatRats
Summary: Sentinel's had some bad plans in the past, but setting up Optimus to take the fall as the first step in a long haul plan to take the position of Magnus and wipe that incident clean from both of their records may be the one exception. Maybe. In the thousand stellar cycles it takes for them to get close to the end of that plan some things change and develop, after all you have to be in touch with your kinda ex-friend if you're to enact such a scheme. And it's hard to stay mad at him when absence makes the spark grow fonder.





	1. But Not Today

Optimus feels his servos shaking and he focus every part of himself on that sensation. If he lets himself think about anything, if his thoughts go beyond the uninterested, surface observation that his servos have been shaking ever since he boarded the ship ever since– Elita, oh poor Elita, she must have been so scared when– Sentinel refused to even look at him. He’s tried very hard not to think about why– you left her, you left her to _die_ and there’s not even a body– but his spark aches to watch their trio splinter even further– all your fault, in one blow you ruined everything – but he can’t bring himself to speak, can barely drag his optics off his servos to glance at Sentinel.

Sentinel, who’s now looking at Optimus for the first time since they've left the planet– since he left Elita – and the brief ugly look of anger and disgust that crosses Sentinel's faceplate before fading away to icy neutrality makes Optimus wish that he had never looked up. He’s never been the best at corralling Elita and Sentinel when they decided on something, normally only able to avert them from a worst case scenario to one only slightly less worse, and never has he hated that more than now. He would have traded places with Elita in an instant, or even focused on just getting Sentinel out and spent every second left of his life trying to get Elita to safety, or at least making sure she wasn’t scared.

Sentinel makes a noise suddenly, Optimus must have been ignoring him. He really didn’t mean to, it was just hard to stay focused in the moment when it felt like he left behind more than just a friend, like he left behind some part of himself that died with Elita.

“Are you listening now?” Sentinel snaps, standing up to glower over Optimus. Optimus silently nods.

“Good, because we need to talk.” He didn’t like the emphasis put on talk.

“About...what, Sentinel?”

“About what’s about to happen to us you glitch!” Sentinel snaps, before exventing in frustration.

“We’re about to return after sneaking out after hours, taking a ship without permission, taking said ship to an organic planet, and abandoning one of our fellow cadets. To die. It didn’t occur to you that we might just be in a little bit of trouble, the sort of trouble that would end our entire careers before they even started?!”

Optimus cringes. He does have a point.

“But,” Sentinel continues, with his voice pitched to the ‘I have a terrible idea and you are not only going to listen to me, you are going to follow me, and not talk me out of it until it’s too late’ tone that Optimus had grown to know too well, that had only led him and...now just him into more trouble than it was worth. “we’re going to get through this, provided you actually do what I tell you to.”

He nods at Sentinel to let him know that he’s listening.

“We’ll probably be put on trial for our actions, it might even be with Ultra Magnus himself as our judge. If we play this right, we can both remain Autobots and still have hopes of careers. If not, the best we can hope for is one of us staying while the other gets tossed out with the other trash.” Already Optimus was seeing who would be who in that best-worst case scenario.

“What do you want us to do?”

Sentinel smiles at him. It’s not a very nice smile.

“You don’t have to do anything, but sit back and take all the blame.”

He wishes he hadn’t listened, didn’t know that there was anything that could have made him feel worse until he hears those words.

“I see.” He looks away from Sentinel, wants to disappear more than ever.

“Now hold on just a minute, Optimus. This is best case scenario, we’re going to be playing this right.”

He glances back up, best case scenario? For Sentinel maybe. He decidedly keeps that to himself though.

“We word this right, we might get a way to get this incident off both of our records.”

This makes no sense, how could he take the blame and still have a record to be cleared?

“I hope you realize that this makes no sense.” He says shakily, but then isn’t that to be expected of one of Sentinel’s plans?

“I don’t expect you to be thinking long term here, since clearly your processor has problems with decision making and planning. But think of it like this: we’ve gone and done something that Ultra Magnus will at least be involved with if not just being our judge. Ultra Magnus also has a soft spot for you, he probably won’t outright wipe you from the books. But with me in the clear, I can climb up through the ranks until I become the new Magnus. After that, I’ll wipe it from your record not a problem.”

Long term planning, that’s new. It’s still not a good plan, the blame of their ill advised trip lay mostly on him but not entirely, that seems more spiteful than anything, but in the time it would take Sentinel to reach the rank of Prime let alone to have just the chance of making Magnus maybe he could find forgiveness for Optimus, at least for the parts that weren’t his fault.

“I think I understand, so you want me to rely on the chance that Ultra Magnus is our disciplinary committee and that he really does have some type of fondness for me, along with the hope that no other threats to your climbing through the ranks come up in the thousands of stellar cycles that it could take?” He’s not up to sassing Sentinel now, but he is just the slightest bit incredulous.

“Exactly. We don’t know what will happen, so the best we can plan for is just a concept.” Sentinel sounds really frustrated but not entirely at Optimus, which is already a vast improvement from earlier.

“So then, why me?” As he understood it, probable ex-best friends who just murdered your mutual best friend don’t make the best comrades.

For that honest inquiry he gets another look from Sentinel that lets him know that the previous internal estimate of Optimus’ intelligence has just dropped by a visible amount.

“Because...you’re all I have left. I don’t have anyone else that I can trust– and I hardly trust you for the slag you pulled – and Elita deserves to be remembered. The only way we can make sure that people remember her, even millions of stellar cycles ahead of us, is by us letting her memory live on and making sure that people know who she is. Who she was.” He hastily corrects himself. “Nobody will listen to us about a cadet unless we’re all the way at the top, when our word’s law.”

Optimus can’t say no to that. He really can’t. He preemptively starts to steel himself for what he’s about to go through when they arrive back on Cybertron.

“Alright, I’m in. I’ll do whatever you need.”

Sentinel places a servo on Optimus shoulder, that coldness temporarily gone.

“I appreciate that, I really do.”

\------

The sound of the Magnus Hammer hitting the ground rinds in his audials and shatters his composure. There was never anything he could have done to truly prepare himself for this, for Ultra Magnus looming above him and Sentinel like their executioner.

“Cadets Optimus and Sentinel,” Ultra Magnus says, his voice ringing throughout the chamber. “you both stand accused of the following crime: trespassing on an organic planet in direct violation with Cybertron and the Autobots’ laws, resulting in the tragic loss of fellow cadet Elita-1. Before I rule out my judgement on the matter, would either of you like to have a final statement?” More final and damning then their separate testimonies would have been had they both not agreed on the story they would tell beforehand.

“Sir,” Sentinel starts out, tone filled with righteous indignation, “I wanted to go back for Elita, but when we started to get overwhelmed Optimus cut and ran.” It wasn’t the first time he had thrown Optimus under the bus during the trial, but it didn’t hurt any less this time.

“So you have testified at great lengths on, but I still suspect that there is more to this case than that. I have yet to ask you both, who was the one that had suggested this venture?”

Optimus and Sentinel both still. It could have been a simple question, or it could have been a hint that he had read their files and noticed that in both their and Elita’s discipline folders for their time at the Academy, each and every plan that had resulted in them being caught had been crafted by Sentinel, with occasionally Elita adding her own disastrous flare to it. If he already knows, then the only thing Optimus can do is sidestep the question, hopefully subtly enough that Ultra Magnus won’t remark on it.

“...I was the senior cadet, sir. Everything that happened was my responsibility.” He meant every word of it, unfortunately. He wasn’t responsible for what happened to get them on the planet, but it all had been his responsibility to make sure that Elita and Sentinel had stayed safe and had gotten out alright. That had always been his responsibility from the first time he had gotten dragged into one of Sentinel’s plans, before even Elita had become part of their group. And he had failed– badly.

Ultra Magnus’ tone audibly chills as he turns to Sentinel and dryly asks, “Is there anything you would care to add to that statement?”

Sentinel glances over at Optimus, some emotion passing quickly through his optics, before turning his head and giving out a flat negative to Ultra Magnus, who shakes his head and exvents sadly.

“Then I am left with no choice,” Ultra Magnus closes his optics in resignation. “Cadet Optimus, you are expelled from the Autobot Academy and therefore ineligible for service in the Autobot Elite Guard.”

It was no less than what he had come to expect, but Sentinel uncrosses his arms and looks from Magnus to Optimus askance, like he hadn’t truly realized what would happen. Just because Optimus had come to terms with it already it didn’t mean that hearing those words didn’t crush his spark. But Ultra Magnus wasn’t done dragging his already tired emotions through the mud it seems.

“I had held hope that someday you would have achieved greatness, perhaps even proven yourself a worthy Magnus candidate,” Optimus flinches at hearing how closely that lines up with Sentinel’s plan. He hopes that Ultra Magnus is willing to transfer that faith and hope to Sentinel’s capabilities. “But clearly, being a hero is not in your programming.”

He refuses to cry at his own hearing, but he’s only just able to hold back the tears. The horrifying events of the past solar cycle have been non stop and wreaking havoc on his emotions, stabbing at his spark until those damning words from the hero of the Autobots was no more than just another blade added to the several emotionally stabbed into him.

After that the trial is adjourned, with Sentinel giving one last indecipherable look at Optimus before stalking off, now alone in his plans. Optimus turns to leave, to make his way away from what his life had been for so long now. He’d need to find new work now, but finding legal, respectable work as someone now blacklisted from the Elite Guard may not be that easy. If worse came to worse as it had been lately, maybe he could find a decent living in bounty hunting. But before he can take so much as one step away from where he’d been stuck in place for hours, Ultra Magnus calls out to him, now walking towards Optimus.

Evidently his humiliation isn’t finished.

He leads Optimus out, the two walking in awkward silence for a moment before Ultra Magnus begins to speak.

“I had always known that you had a special sort of spark in you, Optimus. Your stellar cycles of service have more than proven and confirmed it. Though I will not reinstate you to the Elite Guard, I did pull some strings to get you a ship of very own to command.”

Optimus couldn’t tell if the feeling bubbling within him was happiness or hysteria. Ultra Magnus was not lenient, but he did give Optimus a ship, and presumably mechs to command. Mechs who would not respect him, that should not respect him. Sentinel was still at the Academy, but Optimus got to skip past all that by getting all hopes of a respectable career destroyed. He couldn’t tell if this was more of a punishment than being expelled honestly. But he couldn’t just say that to Ultra Magnus, no matter how much he was tempted to.

“I-thank you, sir. I promise you won’t regret it.” Optimus says, giving a salute right out of Academy expectations.

He’s honestly most surprised that Ultra Magnus salutes him back, at least until the commander opens his mouth to drop one last bombshell. “Congratulations, Optimus _Prime_.”

Ultra Magnus walks away after that, like he hadn’t just dropped the largest surprise that Optimus had received in his, albeit not too lengthy, career. He wonders if his potential new crew were already expecting him or if they were just in the dark as he is. The unfortunately growing part of him that’s a pessimist wonders if he shoved someone out of the way to get this position he had never asked for. He also wonders how Sentinel will take the news, that while he’s still in the Academy, Optimus has apparently gotten off for murder and now is ranks above him. Somehow he doesn’t think Sentinel will be too happy hearing about it, considering the shambles his plan already lay in.

He belatedly drops the salute, too lost in his thoughts to realize how foolish he must look. Taking a deep invent to brace himself, he opens the doors in front of him, ready to introduce himself to his new life.

At first glance, his new life didn’t appear all that much different from the way it was two minutes ago: disappointing. The exterior of the ship in the hanger, the only ship in the hanger and therefore now his ship, has seen better solar cycles. Most likely has seen better stellar cycles, in the thousands, of them. Even with the loud sounds of repair going underway, the small ship seemed more dirty grey and brown than red and yellow. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages, like it had just been left to rot away in some hanger until some poor hapless Autobot got saddled with the responsibility of running it. 

Stepping close to the ship only makes it worse. There’s an unpleasant odor around that only seems to get heavier the longer he stands in place. The sound of repairs is almost drowned out by a loud dripping noise, that he’s dismayed but not surprised at is of course also coming from the ship. Some brown liquid, hopefully oil, please please let it be oil, was slowly falling into a large puddle that was roughly the size of Optimus’ pede. He’s so beyond curious on just what strings Ultra Magnus had to pull to foist Optimus onto this heap. 

There’s potential, of course there is, and he’d do his best to fix it up to do his duty, but right now he was exhausted and there was nothing he wanted to do more than to just collapse in whatever his new berth was. If this ship came with- no that was enough negativity. It never suited him before and if he were to give up now, even at what was now his all time lowest point, he doubted even he could recover his enthusiasm. With the state of this ship, his crew would need him to stay strong, to put a smile on his face and mean it, to grit his denta and do what needed to be done for the Autobot Cause no matter how humiliating it may look to an outsider. Even now, he’s a unique cog in the great machine. A little worn and probably in need of some repairs, but still functional.

Optimus exvents again, trying to bundle up all the negative emotions that had been building up in the solar cycles since he lost Elita and release them bit by bit to make room for the new.

“Alright...alright.” He says to himself, already feeling somewhat lighter. He could figure this out, he _would_ figure this out.

Suddenly two red and white legs slide out from underneath the ship- one of his new crewmates?

The rest of the bot soon followed, he looked older to say the least, most likely around Kup’s age. From the way he was on his back Optimus couldn’t tell much about his alt-mode or his profession, although given his work it was possible that he was a technician of some kind.

“I know, he may not look like much but this ship’s still got plenty of stellar cycles left in him. It’s the rest of the crew that you should really be worried about.”

Optimus digests that information uneasily, if the ship is in this condition, how bad is the rest of his crew?

“What exactly do you mean?” He asks, trying to find a positive.

“Well kid, right now you and I _are_ the crew. When the rest of them show up, that’s when our troubles will really start.”

Oh...no crew. That was...that was something he guessed. Easier to get on one bot’s good side rather than a full crew’s to start with. 

He sighs and the older bot seems to agree with the sentiment, judging by the half smile he has as he rises, clutching at his back briefly at the ache from being upright all of a sudden. After a second, he withdraws a servo to extend in greeting, Optimus grabs it gladly.

“Name’s Ratchet,” he says, not denoting any rank, or even function. Somewhat odd considering the medical markings he can now see on Ratchet’s arms, but it’s hardly the weirdest thing about his day, so he puts it aside.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ratchet. My name is Optimus...Prime.” The last part is added only a half instant of thought, he’s still not used to even the concept of having a rank. Ratchet’s optics widen at the title.

“A Prime huh, what’d a kid like you do to get that rank and get spacebridge repair duty?”

“It’s a long story,” Optimus starts, not willing to spill everything, but wanting to make his best effort to get along with his new crewmate. His only crewmate. “but to put it shortly I had- wait. Did you just say...spacebridge repair?”

Ratchet looks at him with pity and the kind of humor that can only be inoffensive when it’s coming from someone much older. Optimus tries not to be offended anyway.

“Sure did kid, guessing you didn’t get the memo?”

Optimus sighs, sliding the servo out of Ratchet’s hand to rest against his face in misery. 

“Nope...I guess I didn’t.”

“Think of it this way, there’ll be plenty of time for you to learn before we get enough of a crew to head out.” Ratchet glances at the ship fondly. “Not like there’s much else to do ‘cept repair the ship.”

Silver linings…


	2. The Way Things Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separated by millions of miles and their respective duties, Sentinel and Optimus exchange the first of several communications. It...could have gone better.

From: Sentinel Minor

To: Optimus Prime

Status: The Way Things Stand

Message Status: Secure

  
  


Optimus,

I hope this message reaches you at a convenient time. I’d hate to be distracting you for the very important and grueling work of repairing space bridges. You really must be putting that title of Prime to good use. How exactly _ did _ you end up weaseling that title out of Ultra Magnus? Has he really gone so senile that he thinks that a promotion, albeit a backhanded one, is any sort of punishment? Then again, you and I both know that he’s not the bot for the job, particularly long term anyway.

Unlike you, I’ve been hard at work earning my rank and my recognition through sheer effort and resilience. After graduating near the top of our class from the Academy, they offered me the rank of Minor on the condition that I go back to the Academy to teach the latest disappointing cadets. I shouldn’t have done it looking back, I should have waited to get a position better suited for me, but my final scores...were not as high as they should have been. There were a variety of reasons behind that, don’t get me wrong, but not having you as my roommate and my study partner has been a harsh adjustment to make. I doubt your broken mess of a ship has anything resembling competent medical care, but I would recommend talking to the most qualified of your sorry selection if you’ve been having problems since-

Anyway.

Amongst all the candidates, there was no one truly of note. The usual disappointments really, with two bumbling idiots in particular having gotten the boot. As I hear, they’re set to become space bridge technicians just like you. Though you do have my sincere condolences if they do end up transferring to your ship, the two of them have nothing of value to them other than to be a constant source of a helmache. There's nothing of worth that they were ever capable of, save for one instance.

Believe it or not, a Decepticon spy managed to infiltrate the Autobot Academy. I had my suspicions from the start due to his suspicious behavior and his high performance. He managed to establish himself as the leader of the pack so to say, but through the bumbling of one of the ex-cadets I got the evidence needed to stop his plans before they could ever really be put in motion.

With the bumbler in question gone, that leaves credit for the spy's discovery solely to me. If I keep this up, I should match ranks with you in no time. Although, mine would actually mean something of course. How _ is _ it going for you, by the way? You've always been good at picking up new skills, but this isn't what we had trained for. What happened to you...wasn't what I expected. I was expecting to have the option of meeting with you to discuss our plans, strictly in a professional setting of course. But it seems that these communications will have to be the extent of our interaction for the time being, until you can show your faceplates on Cybertron again. 

As of this moment, that is the extent of my updated status. I expect significantly less of note from you, but no shorter length is needed. There’s a lot of gaps that I need to have filled in so I can better plan from here on out and I doubt you have much as far as stimulating conversation out there. As long as it _ is _ relevant to the topics that actually matter, I don’t mind obliging.

Signing off,

Sentinel Minor of the Autobot Academy

\------

Message Received and Read by Optimus Prime

\------

Optimus rereads Sentinel’s message and sighs. There was a lot to sigh about, though not all of it had to do with Sentinel. The obvious omission of his rank at the start of the message didn’t quite hurt, though it did sting, however understandable it was that Sentinel was bitter over the gap in their ranks, regardless of how useless that gap actually is.

Sentinel _ had _ landed those two cadets right into Optimus’ crew, upping their number to the extent that they could now embark on their actual job assignments. They weren’t...bad bots, to be sure, and they weren’t as useless as Sentinel claimed. But when they were put together and put to work, they tended to get tripped up in each other. Figuratively and literally speaking. But, they had potential and for all of Bumblebee’s grumbling he got the work done one way or another. It was just the “another” part of that that tended to be concerning. And cause more problems cleaning up than it would have if he had just done it like he was told to in the first place. 

Actually, in that regard, he wasn’t that different from the way Sentinel was while they were cadets. He was always up after hours, ready to persuade Optimus into trying something or another because it would quicken their time, or look flashier, or a variety of other reasons that were just as likely to land the two, or three of them as it often had been, right in front of Kup’s disappointed glare. Bumblebee had, on more than one occasion been on Optimus’ own variant of that look whenever he had needed an extra servo, or five to get himself out of trouble because he just couldn’t wait for Bulkhead to finish what he was doing to help him. He thinks about how offended they would both get if he told them about this comparison and smiles to himself, imagining the dual offended looks and the loud cries arguing their case as they rose in pitch and volume at the same time.

After only a second, he shakes himself out of it and moves to head out of the ship. Prime or no, the work was never done and everyone needed to lend a servo. No matter how much he ached some days, this was his spot in the great Autobot machine, at least for now. Once he starts swinging his ax and clearing away rocks, getting into the rhythm where his processor could focus on other things. Like a response.

_ Sentinel- _ oh he would _ not _ like it if Optimus returned his little jab with one just as offensive, if not more so.

_ Sentinel _ _**Minor**_-there we go. Stress the title, let him know that Optimus knows what he did and it wasn’t funny or cute, or even that faux-funny sincerely spiteful that he knows Sentinel is more than capable of. 

_ Sentinel Minor, _

_ As a matter of fact, you _ DID _ send your two cadets my way. I am eternally grateful for that. They’ve been a constant source of productivity, I’ve yet to see why you decided to redirect them from a surely promising path towards the Elite Guard- _

He’s jolted out of his draft, admittedly more mean-spirited thus far than he actually feels, but the barbs are more at Sentinel than they are at his crew, by Ratchet setting off a blast. Processor numbing as the work could be, it was hard to truly let your thoughts drift off for any lengthy amount of time. He takes a second to remember where he was, lifts his ax to start again, before he hears Ratchet cry out.

“Fire in the hole!”

That wasn’t good. Normally he doesn’t say anything when a blast is set off, he only speaks up if someone else is nearby. The last thing any of them need is serious injuries, especially when he has no idea on how medically competent Ratchet _ actually _ is. He rushes over to see the damage...and sees one more bot than he was expecting near the rubble, with the three of them seeming no worse for wear,thankfully.

The new bot is black, gold, and very angry. Understandable if they had disrupted them or, from the sounds of it, damaged if not completely destroyed their ship.

“Now how am I supposed to get off this spark-forsaken rock?” They spit out, glaring at Bumblebee as if he was the culprit. In Bumblebee’s defense, Optimus was fairly certain he had nothing to do with it this time.

“Easy,” Optimus soothes, approaching the stranger with his axe loosely held in his servo. He didn’t want to use it, especially considering the Autobot insignia that the other bot had on their chest, but he’d look after his team. He’d _ always _look after his team, even if not everyone included in that was even in the same part of the universe as him. “We can transport you to wherever you need to be once we’re done in this sector.” If the place they needed to be happened to be on Cybertron, well that would be a very welcome accident. He missed his home, just as much as he missed Sentinel, making him the only one of the two willing to admit it at the moment.

“It won’t be long, fifty to sixty stellar cycles tops.” Not a long time at all, compared to some of their other work, but for a bot who has places to be...well. “Of course, you’re more than free to lend a servo. It may help to speed things up.” Even if the bot had no idea what they were doing, clearing rocks didn’t require a particularly skilled processor to get down to an art.

The bot shoots him a look of possibly disgust, definite offense. Optimus wonders if that was the look Ratchet saw on his faceplate those stellar cycles ago when he got started, he sincerely hopes not.

“You _ expect _ me to be a common maintenance bot?” They say, seemingly more surprised than anything though which is a relief. 

“I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can offer you. Take it or leave it.” Optimus understands the other bot’s position and he does have sympathy for them, but he’s not going to pull rank to change where they’re doing. On the off chance someone checks in on their position, he doubts that they’d be pleased to find out about it.

The stranger has an unreadable look behind their pointed visor. Optimus wishes he could tell what they were thinking.

“First I fail to protect the protoforms and now _ this _.” Their tone grows in volume and with it their emotions shift from a quiet almost sorry to a clear frustration and anger. They stalk away for a second, facing a rock before punching it, the force of which cuts the rock in half horizontally. That’s...beyond impressive. But he can’t spare more than a second to look at it before the bot whirls back around, their fists still clenched.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to embark on a path, only to find it so completely twisted and turned that you don’t have a single clue where you are?!” Ah. This mystery bot and he were similar, much more so than he had thought earlier. His sympathy quickly begins to shift to empathy, remembering how raw his own grief and frustration had felt in the aftermath of his trial.

He puts a hand on the stranger, no longer concerned about his or his crew’s safety. They are no danger, they’re just...lost, just like he had been. Just like he still feels if he was honest. He waits until the stranger looks at him, his optics met with the sight of that visor.

“Oddly enough,” he says ruefully, “I do.” He gives the stranger a smile, wants to impart that he’s really truly speaking honestly here.

It seems to get across as the stranger deflates, the anger seeming to leave their frame.

He leads them back towards the ship, work done for the moment, and mentally tosses the draft he had written out into a waste bin. He could do better than that, everyone deserved better than that.

\------

Sent By: Optimus Prime

Recipient: Sentinel Minor

Status: Re: The Way Things Stand

Message Status: Secure

  
  


Sentinel Minor,

Believe me, I’ve had plenty of time to think about your message and plan out a response. Surprisingly, repairing space bridges is difficult work. It uses and strains parts of my frame that were never even trained in the Academy, I bet I could have wiped the floor with you in sparring if I put in this amount of work. You and I both know that my title’s empty, the only way I’ll get anything of actual worth’s going to be coming from both of our hard work, no free handouts. I’ve been putting in plenty of work in the meanwhile though, to make our lives easier down the line.

Congratulations on your promotion by the way, I know it won’t be long before you’re a Prime on the Elite Guard. The two cadets you talked about, Bumblebee and Bulkhead, are in fact now members of my crew. Though they’re still a little rough around the edges, in more than one way at times, I can tell that you’ve trained them to the best of your ability. Though your naming taste is very...distinct. I’m going to assume that these poor cadets caught you in an awful mood when it came time to give them their designations.

There’s another member of our crew, Ratchet, who seems to have had a career in the medical field at some point. I plan on approaching him about what you mentioned, so thank you for that. It’s been hard adjusting, especially with the nightmares.I know that communicating through text may not be what you’re most comfortable with, but if you would ever be willing to talk to me about how you’re feeling, I’ll be here for you. I want you to know that even with the distance between us, you aren’t alone. I think about you and Elita as often as my work allows me to think. I remember what you said, about wanting to make sure people remember her and letting her memory live on...Those words mean a lot to me, I want you to know that.

I hope that your career continues to rocket to higher levels, it’ll be nice to talk to a fellow Prime in the near future. Congratulations on apprehending the Decepticon spy, by the way. I’ll be sure to also give Bumblebee my congratulations. I’ll be sure to let you know of any interesting updates to my congratulations. 

Wishing you the best,

Optimus Prime

\------

Message Received and Read by Sentinel Minor

\------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's read so far and enjoyed enough to leave kudos, comments, or even to bookmark this fic! I would like to not only apologize for the delay in this chapter, but also a probable delay in the next chapter. As things stand at the moment, I am directly in the path of hurricane Dorian and I am expecting to at least lose power for a day given the strength of the storm. However, once things have cleared up and recovered to the extent that I can resume life than regular once a week updates will continue!!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this week's chapter :^D


	3. The Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the space bridge repair crew fails to check in after announcing the Decepticon ship closing in after their discovery of the AllSpark, the Autobots hold a memorial for their apparently departed members. And who better to speak about the memory of Optimus Prime than his old Academy pal?

There was little that Sentinel Prime hated more than speaking at funerals. For him to have to speak at two, within only a couple hundred stellar cycles of each other, was the absolute worst. But more than the speaking itself, was the fact that this second funeral was for his only remaining friend. Well, Optimus _ was _ his only remaining friend, until he got the idea in his slagged processor that Megatron was absolutely the opponent for him to square up against. Supposedly at least. He hopes that Optimus had enough sense to tuck tail and run like he excelled at. He feels awful enough that this is his second speaking funeral where there’s no actual body in the casket, he doesn’t think that he could tolerate it if this one also was empty because there wasn’t a body to recover. If that stupid glitch had tried to be a hero for once, there wasn’t going to be anything left. But maybe...maybe he was still out there somehow. The odds were just as low as Elita still being alive, though. His friends didn’t seem to have had much luck in dangerous situations.

He couldn’t decide if he was feeling more rage or grief towards Optimus, if he was being honest. Though he had completed all of his training but the graduation exam, he lacked the field experience that Sentinel was slowly amassing and had the sorriest excuse of backup the Autobots had to offer. Even so, he had trained two members of Optimus’ crew himself, to the best extent of his abilities before they had been too disappointing to salvage. If they didn’t have the good sense to put themselves in front of their commanding officer, to at least allow Optimus the chance to escape, he would drag them back from the AllSpark and offline them again himself. Optimus was a glitch, that much is true, but he was a glitch that _ mattered _. And now, just like Elita, no one but him would care. He’d be forgotten as just another space bridge technician, when he should have gotten the chance to be so much more. Especially now, staring out in front of all those gathered, his fellow Elite Guard members and his and Optimus’ drill sergeant most clearly visible, he feels a sense of hatred bubbling up at Ultra Magnus. He knows now that he will never forgive him for what he did, for all the good he’s done as the leader of the Autobot cause his growing senility is what sent Optimus off to his death. You were supposed to keep the ones you had a soft spot for out of harm’s way, not the other way around.

But he can’t change the past and Optimus deserves the best memorial service he could get. Sentinel would honor his old friend by making sure he got just that. He exvents shakily and prepares to give those around him a speech they will remember.

“I’ve been asked to say a few words about our fallen comrade, Optimus Prime. But even if I hadn’t, I would have done so anyway. At the Autobot Academy, he was the first friend I ever made. He was stubborn at best, and an outright glitch at worst, but he always lived up to his name of Optimus the optimist. He always held out hope that there was always something better, no matter how hard things got. As much as this made him my rival in the academy, it also made him my biggest inspiration. Myself and...another fallen Autobot, Elita-1, used to drag him along with our plans because as long as he was there, things would at least be salvageable. When all was said and done, Optimus could look at a complete mess and still find the slightest bit of hope for himself and others to cling onto. Though he never was a member of the Elite Guard, he strove to embody our ideals in everything he did. He died in the line of duty, along with his crew, and I have no doubt that he went out making sure that they were all as safe as he could ensure, putting his needs and life before theirs, even knowing what would happen to him. For all of our disagreements and the distance our separate careers forced between us, Optimus Prime was my first and best friend amongst the Autobots. Were he here amongst us, or had he been able to give one last message to us all, I have no doubt that he would say something among the lines of him being glad to do his part for the Autobot cause, that every bot, no matter how lowly his function may seem to others is a unique cog in the great Autobot machine.” Sentinel stops for a second, trying desperately not to choke on his words, or cry now when he was so close to finishing. There was so much more that needed to be said, but he could only get through so much.

“He...he always was embarrassingly sincere, those words wouldn’t have just been empty, or something he said to suck up. Like I said, he really was Optimus the optimist, and he, along with his crew, will _ always _ be remembered. Thank you.”

When he finally finishes saying his piece, he’s met with an uproar of applause from the attendees. He can’t stand to look at them though, suddenly hit with the realization that he was probably the only one who would actually be remembering Optimus, though Ultra Magnus may have one more regret added to his conscious for all the good that it will do. He simply makes his way away from the holograms of Optimus and his crew and tries not to scream about how unfair it all is. 

When they broke the rules, Elita had died, a horrifying loss but one that does unfortunately make sense, rules are made to be followed for a reason, for the greater and common good. But Optimus, despite prior poor judgement, had followed orders, had just been doing his job and stayed out of trouble. So, were either of them really more worthwhile when the end results were the same? Not at the moment. But when he was Magnus, because he, Elita, and Optimus damned well _ deserved _ it after everything, he would change the rules. He would never find anyone else that he would love as much as those two, but he could do his best to make sure nothing like that ever happened to anyone ever again. No one deserved to lose their loved ones when this was meant to be a time of peace.

As he begins to walk away, he’s stopped by one of the few familiar faces and probably the only one short of Ultra Magnus himself that he would let stop him. It was Kup, his old instructor from the pit, seemingly...crying? But no, no he couldn’t be crying. He salutes him out of habit, despite now outranking Kup significantly. As expected, Kup waves him off. But he actually stops to salute Sentinel before speaking, a gesture that legitimately stuns and touches Sentinel. He knows he was far from the perfect recruit and that he and Elita had been on the receiving end of Kup’s disappointed glare as much for the trouble they got in as for dragging Optimus along with them. Maybe it was because Kup just didn’t feel like being a hardaft to him after everything, Sentinel could certainly respect that.

“I’ve got to hand it to you Prime, your speech took me by surprise. I never thought that you could be so well spoken about anything.”

It doesn’t sting, though he is disappointed by Kup’s words. It hurt being reminded that his biggest supporters and believers in him being capable of whatever he wanted, his only supporters he guessed, were gone. It was hard enough having to admit it aloud once.

He doesn’t show his lackluster response, but Kup backpedals all the same.

“I mean...you were never a bad cadet by any stretch. And from what I heard, you’ve been doing well as an Elite Guard member, stopping a Decepticon spy when you were just a Minor. That takes more than what the average Autobot has. Between that and your speech, I’ll admit it. I misjudged you when you were a cadet. I knew you were close to Elita and Optimus, but I had never looked into it as more than a partners in crime dynamic and I’m sorry about that. It was a disservice to all three of you to think it was that shallow. They were your friends and I’m sorry that you had to lose them both.”

Sentinel noticed it as a cadet, made a few quips about it more than once, but Kup looks _ old _. Age, exhaustion, and sadness seem to hang on every inch of his frame as he speaks. To be honest, he didn’t consider that something like this would be affecting a hardaft training instructor, but Kup had gotten to know every single one of the cadets in Sentinel’s group, either through yelling at them or by gently coaxing out what potential he could see, until they were all to be standing proudly at attention on graduation day. 

He thinks that maybe Kup also felt those two invisible gaps that day, where two others should have been standing, maybe there was one other person who could help him remember Elita and Optimus as they were. As sobering as this whole event has been, the thought does lift a weight off his shoulders. Maybe his goal is still possible and attainable after everything. He has more reason than ever to throw himself into his work, no longer distracted by little messages sent back and forth every few stellar cycles.

“Thank you sir,” he says, his voice wavering. “You’re about the only one who I can believe saying that.”

Kup looks at him with pity and sadness at that last part, but Sentinel doesn’t know why, honestly doesn’t have the energy to ask.

“Yeah...listen kid, things aren’t going to seem alright for a while, probably a really long time in your case. But this sort of thing never gets easier to deal with, but you _ will _ be able to deal with it and keep going, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”

Sentinel salutes Kup one more time, grateful that it had been Kup and not Ultra Magnus or anyone else who had approached him. It would have been beyond inappropriate for him to throw a punch at a fellow officer at a funeral of all places. Kup salutes back, before giving Sentinel one last look before heading off.

Sentinel watches him leave before slowly starting to make his way to the edge of the crowd. If at all possible, he’d like to make it to Maccadam’s Oil House so he could drink well into his next shift. Again, hardly professional, but he never got to drown his feelings after Elita, he had to be alert and aware for the trial, so he was drinking for three tonight. He’s feeling both depressed and generous enough to spend part of his paycheck on a round of drinks for everyone. It’ll foster some good will to fill the hole he’d be digging for himself.

Just after he had managed to get out of that mass of Autobots, he hears someone trying to rapidly approach him. Ultra Magnus would never run, so he just keeps walking in the hopes that they give up.

“Sentinel Prime? Sir?” No luck. It was Longarm Prime, the only other officer competent enough that he couldn’t justify ignoring. Whatever it was, if Longarm himself was approaching Sentinel about a matter, it was most likely very important.

He exvents, not caring if it’s taken offensively. Longarm was his former cadet, he was used to much worse probably. Sentinel turns slightly towards him, to let Longarm know he has at least part of Sentinel’s attention.

“What can I do for you Longarm?” 

“Well, sir, are you sure that it’s wise for us to discontinue the search for Optimus Prime’s ship? After all, the AllSpark may still be-” Sentinel was _ not _dealing with this. Not now and not when it was being made about the very thing that had gotten Optimus killed.

“The AllSpark is isn’t _ meant _ to be found, Longarm Prime!” He yells, Longarm shrinking back slightly at his venomous tone. 

Longarm was normally smarter than this, but clearly he still had a lot to learn.

“But sir, surely-” Case in point. Sentinel tries to reign in his temper, barely succeeds. This solar cycle has been going on for far too long.

“You’re the fastest rising intelligence officer the Autobots have ever had, you’ve learned Decepticon behavior at an almost alarming speed, but there’s still a lot you have to learn. You’re a talented bot, but a young one. The bots from your generation have never known war and it was _ my _ generation that put away the AllSpark. We did that for a reason.” Well, his generation got to see the direct aftereffects of that, but he doubted Longarm knew the dates well enough to call him out. His speciality was intelligence, not history. That...had always been Optimus’ field of interest. 

“Without us looking for Optimus’ ship, the AllSpark will go missing again for both sides. Its loss from sight is what led us into the era of peace we live in now, with more than a million stellar cycles without any conflict with the Decepticons. With Megatron gone now as well, that peace could go for another million stellar cycles easily.”

“Sir, are we _ really _ sure that Megatron is offlined? What if he survived somehow?”

Sentinel closes his optics for a second, thinking longingly about Maccadam’s before smirking at Longarm. It was not a particularly nice smirk.

“You’re the chief intelligence officer, aren’t you? You submitted the reports and saw the same videos that everyone else in the Elite Guard has. It’s complete chaos with the remaining Decepticons, the kind of chaos Megatron would never allow to reign.”

Longarm still doesn’t look completely sure, so when he opens his mouth to say something else, Sentinel cuts him off by raising a servo.

“Tell me Longarm, have you ever heard of Archa Seven?”

Longarm looks taken aback by the topic change, taking a long moment to think about the name and search through the considerable records he had completely memorizes before shaking his head in the negative.

“No sir, that name’s not familiar to me.”

Of course not, why would anyone know about that planet. It’s not as if it was anything of importance, a horrible, awful place where-

“You’ve really been slacking in your history then. It was the final resting place of the Decepticon ship _ Twilight _and if you check the archives, there’ll be a recent file on it and just why we don’t check out ship wreckages when a superior officer tells us not to.”

With that he turns his back on Longarm and heads away. Longarm doesn’t try to run after him, which is for the best. Sentinel _ really _ could use a drink. He’s got a lot of ghosts brought up today and a lot of emotions he needs to drown and bury away inside his spark until it stops hurting like a fresh wound. He hopes that there’s a drink made for just that. Or several.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was HEAVILY inspired by the first issue of Transformers Animated's The Arrival! And by heavily inspired, I mean I completely went feral and ran with the concept of Sentinel speaking at Optimus' funeral. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed!


	4. Regarding Elita

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of "Along Came a Spider", Optimus lets Sentinel know what happened and starts to slowly heal. Sentinel, hit with three bombshells at once, decidedly Does Not.

Sent By: Optimus Prime

Recipient: Sentinel Prime of the Autobot Elite Guard

Status: Regarding Elita

Message Status: Secure

Sentinel,

I’m sorry for a variety of reasons for what you’re about to read. But Elita isn’t dead, not really. I came across her on Earth during a festival where humans disguise themselves as monsters. Well, it was more that I came in conflict with her. She doesn’t call herself Elita-1 anymore, but Blackarachnia. She’s...a Decepticon, at least with the badge if not with her ideals. She kidnapped one of the humans that my team’s establish a rapport with to use her AllSpark key to try to turn herself back into her Cybertronian form.

She knows me and I know her voice, but if it weren’t for that I never would have been able to tell. I know you’re probably well aware of who Blackarachnia is, but there’s nothing about her appearance that would suggest that she used to be Elita...that she _ is _ Elita. Her personality isn’t that different, though. She’s meaner, like a Decepticon would be, but she could have done a lot more to hurt me than she actually did. Compared to my crew, I was just roughed up a little bit. She would have been justified in doing a lot more than just roughing me up.

She survived the blast...and so did those organic spiders. She used her powers on them when they started to overpower her and that’s what made her signal disappear. I was only tracking technological beings, not technorganic. Her frame was completely mutated by her powers, which left her looking the way she does now. She feels abandoned and she’s right to feel that way. I should have tried harder, you were right to blame me. I was the one who gave up when I couldn’t see her signal and I will gladly spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it to you both. I doubt words would be enough for Blackarachnia though.

She seems to distrust me, and all other Autobots by extension, thinking that we would dissect her in the guise of actually helping. You and I both know we would sooner desert to the Decepticons than do that. Sorry, that was in especially poor taste. With her new side allegiance, she said that at least she knows where she stands with the Decepticons… As time goes on, I’m starting to get more and more expectant about a shift in leadership with the Autobots. For a former cadet to feel that threatened and unsafe just by the way she looks, it’s unacceptable to me.

But like I said earlier, she took the AllSpark key to try and change forms back to what she used to have. Had it not harmed all organic life in the area in the process of attempting to revert her form, including the humans, nearby plant life, and Blackarachnia herself, I would have gladly stood by to let her do what she wanted. But when she began to weaken from her spark needing her now organic half, I had to remove the key from her, stopping its efforts. It kept her online, but it also kept her in the body she hates. I had offered to let her come with us, I told her that we could find a cure and the three of us could be together again. She had me lean in to her so she could stun me into paralysis. The last thing I heard her say was “It’ll be a long time before I ever trust another Autobot. Especially you, Optimus.” By the time I could move again, she was gone and I had messed up our chance of getting her back.

But, a long time doesn’t mean forever. It was a thousand stellar cycles before I saw her again, it may be a thousand more before she lets both of us see her, or a million before she ever feels like she could start to forgive. But I fully plan on being there for her if she wants me there...and even if she doesn’t. I’ve learned by now that you don’t abandon your friends and teammates. Even if she’s not an Autobot, she’ll always be my friend. I know that we’ve both gone through the same trauma with those spiders, but I hope you’ll stand with me even if she’s not the Elita that we loved and were so close with. Together we’ll be by her side if she ever wants us there and together we’ll make sure that no Autobot gets left behind ever again.

I’m sorry that I had to break the news to you this way, but I wanted to let you know as soon as I could. If I am on Cybertron in the near future, or you journey to Earth for whatever reason, I’d be more than glad to talk with you more about it. 

Wishing you the best,

Optimus Prime 

\------

Message Received and Read by Sentinel Prime of the Autobot Elite Guard

\------

Optimus checks the status again and sighs. It’s been three solar cycles since he saw that Sentinel had read through his message and the stress of not knowing what his response was to it is starting to get to him. Even if it was a blunt “frag off and die” that’d be preferable to just silence. He’s worried about how Sentinel’s feeling, in such a short amount of time he went from believing that Elita had died to now knowing that she wasn’t but in some way was worse off, but he can’t see her for himself. Optimus is having a hard time dealing with it and he’s not even the one who had to speak at her funeral. He...hadn’t gotten the time off from repair work when it had been held, after his and Sentinel’s hearing.

He wonders if Elita’s memorial will still be there or if it’ll be taken down now. He doesn’t know if he wants it gone or not, honestly it feels like a choice Blackarachnia should make, though he feels like she’d be just as divided. 

He doesn’t hold out much hope for Cybetron’s mental health counseling, especially for that of Elite Guard members. Nevertheless, he hopes that if Sentinel won’t reach out to him that he’ll at least talk to someone so he doesn’t have to deal with his emotions by himself. From past experience, he knows Sentinel doesn’t deal with his emotions if he’s left alone. Speaking of…

He closes out of the message’s window for the time being, he’ll open it back up and see if Sentinel responds later but he has to check on something. He makes his way over to the medical bay and sees Ratchet wiping down the area. Good, it looks like Bumblebee and Bulkhead recovered just fine from Blackarachnia’s attack.

“Ratchet? Do you have a second?” He asks, standing in the doorway hesitantly.

Ratchet looks over at him, still wiping down his tools. “What is it Prime? The youngbots bounced back just fine from that Decepticon attack and you don’t seem to be doin’ too badly yourself.”

“It’s not that...I was wondering, could I talk to you about something?”

He gets Ratchet’s full attention at that, as well as a wordless gesture to take a seat on the examination table, since there were no other seats. Optimus does so gladly running a servo along the edge of the table nervously while Ratchet wipes down the last tool before giving Optimus an expectant look. He’s relieved that Ratchet hasn’t said anything. 

“About the Decepticon that attacked earlier, Blackarachnia, I know her. Or rather, I used to anyway. Her name was Elita-1 and along with Sentinel, she was my best friend.”

Despite that bombshell, Ratchet’s still silent, and when Optimus looks over to him, he sees a soft look on his faceplates. It’s not condescending, or pity, but it’s kindness and understanding, and Optimus didn’t really know how much he needed to see that look until he was staring at it.

“When we were all cadets,” he starts, feeling the need to just tell someone, even as his throat burned with the words. “we went to a planet called Archa Seven, an organic world that was off limits.” His words are squished together as he’s trying to rip of the bandaid, as the humans would say. “It was off limits for a reason. We made a _ stupid _choice and I didn’t stop-”

“Kid.” Ratchet cuts him off quietly. Optimus closes his mouth and exvents shakily, bringing his arms around to hug himself. He misses his friends so much. So much that it physically hurts and he just wants to be able to see Elita again, or talk to Sentinel and not have them coldly rebuff him, even if he does deserve it.

“You don’t have to tell me about what happened if you don’t think you’re ready. But if you want to tell me what your friend was like, I’m here to listen.”

Oh. He...hadn’t thought about it like that. Talking about how Elita was before, rather than where it had all gone wrong, he doesn’t think he’s done that one time in the thousand stellar cycles since they had all been together. He hugs himself a little tighter, but starts to speak again.

“Elita-1 was...well to put it nicely she could be a snob sometimes. Our training instructor, Kup, gave her name because she was “elitist”, he had her figured out as soon as he looked at her.” Optimus snorts, remembering the way Elita would sometimes lift her head up, like she was trying not to look at other cadets when she was at her haughtiest. “But she was still nice to a lot of the cadets, especially the two walking malfunctions she called her friends. We used to stay up studying until early the next solar cycle, with Sentinel passed out at the desk next to us. He’d get an impressive score despite that and Elita would always joke and reach for him to use her borrowing power so she wouldn’t have to study that much. It always made us laugh, even if she had gotten a better score than us that time.”

He keeps talking, letting the words and stories that he’d kept so tightly to his spark loosen up little by little. This wouldn’t fix everything, but Sentinel had been right to advise him to speak with someone. As a smile grows on his faceplate he hopes that Sentinel can follow his own advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please join me in pouring one out for Sentinel, who got the utter shock of his life and can't do anything about it for the moment.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, even though it was fairly short! Next week's chapter will DEFINITELY make up for this one's length :^)c


	5. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elite Guard arrives on Earth! There's not one character that is entirely happy with that, but Optimus and Sentinel try to make the best out of it. They try.

Looking up at the sky as that giant blast begins to head further downtown, looking like it’s about to make impact in the middle of the city, all Optimus can think is _ please, not another Decepticon attack. _ But as he and his team roll out and make their way closer to the site, he sees that it’s a ship, and not a Decepticon one either. He hadn’t been told about any Autobots coming to Earth at this time, by Sentinel or by anyone else, but that doesn’t necessarily mean much, given Sentinel’s radio silence still.

They come to a stop right by a blockade made up of the police forces’ cars, though Optimus doubts that they’d do much. Getting a closer look at the ship, its varying shades of blue and overall design confirming that it _ was _ an Autobot ship, he feels his nerves acting up. Hearing Captain Fanzone tell his men to secure the perimeter only makes him more nervous, the last thing he wants is for some trigger happy newcomer to cause problems. Or worst possible case, a Magnus who has no desire to be anywhere near organics and is willing to show that. He cringes just at the thought.

“Please have your men stand down,” He implores, coming up behind the captain slowly like he’s holding a loaded weapon instead of a megaphone. “let _ us _ handle this.”

Captain Fanzone turns to give him an incredulous look, craning his neck so far it must hurt. He spits out a laugh in disbelief.

“And let you five have the perfect excuse to wreck the other half of the city? I don’t think so, not on my watch!”

Almost as soon as he finishes saying that, the door to the ship hisses as it begins to unlock and lower itself to the ground. Fanzone turns back to see who the visitors are, but the scope of the ship is leading itself more and more to the idea that it’s Elite Guard members at absolute minimum.When the steam clears and Optimus can make out more of the figures other than the Elite Guard insignia, he feels...he feels something. There’s one bot he doesn’t recognize, their plating is mostly white and they have a light blue visor on, but the two he definitely does remember are Ultra Magnus and Sentinel. Sentinel Prime, now. It’s odd seeing Sentinel and knowing that he’s in the Elite Guard now, the last time he saw his friend face to face it was when they were both cadets.

Speaking of, Ultra Magnus from his spot at the top of the ramp makes him seem no less imposing as he did the day of the trial. In both cases, it feels like the Autobot commander is gazing down at him, taking note of everything he sees in some inner scoresheet that only he can see. Optimus likes that look even less now, even though he’s done nothing wrong at this point. 

Distantly he can hear Captain Fanzone mutter “Robots...why did it have to be robots?” and in this case, he’s almost inclined to agree.

Moving as one unit, his team of repair bots make their way near the ramp where they all salute their Magnus.

“Ultra Magnus, sir!” Optimus says, sounding a bit more surprised than he would have wanted to. “Welcome to Earth, commander. It’s an hon-”

Without even acknowledging him, or anyone else on his team, Ultra Magnus turns to look at the unknown member of the Guard.

“Jazz, set up a quarantine force shield to separate us from the organics.” His tone is level and cool as he gives the order.

From underneath the servo still saluting, Optimus’ optics narrow. Any one of them could have given a quick report on the danger that Earth life provided, that being very little.

Already setting a good first opinion of themselves, Jazz leans down to get a better look at the humans around them. Optimus can hear the sounds of Sari running distantly, she must have followed them on foot. 

“You sure that’s necessary, Commander? I’d like to get a closer look.” Optimus was beginning to like Jazz already, just for that willingness.

“You might feel differently when the slime they spew out starts melting through your reinforced plating and it starts to melt your internal circuitry.” Sentinel cuts in, making Optimus both exhausted and concerned. He didn’t want the first conversation he’d have with Sentinel be one where he’d have to prove him wrong on several counts. Those conversations always went very poorly with Sentinel’s pride.

Jazz cringes and raises an arm as if to defend themselves from the supposed organic slime. “Really?” They sound a lot less eager to go near the nearby humans now, so that’s more damage control that’ll have to be done. But he’s not putting this one on himself, Jazz seemed open enough initially, it could probably be undone through seeing an organic and letting their natural curiosity take back over. Optimus could see Jazz enjoying meeting Sari, as overwhelming as she could be at times.

“I’ve had some experiences with organics and believe me, nothing good can come from contact with them.” Sentinel shoots Optimus a Look. Not a bad one per se, but not a nice one. It was more a look of a sort of shared misery at their past experience, he was guessing.

While the organic, singular, in question was in fact terrifying beyond all belief and led to the most miserable and lonely stellar cycles they both had gone through-actually. He couldn’t make that argument. Sentinel hadn’t gotten the chance to see the good in humans, just like Jazz. So he’d have to prove otherwise to them both it seemed.

Despite Jazz being the one to receive the order, Sentinel retrieves a small remote from his subspace and presses a button on it to engage the quarantine field. Optimus doesn’t say a word as the field moves to cover them all, this is a battle that’s not worth fighting while Ultra Magnus was here.

“Sentinel Prime, decontaminate Optimus Prime and his crew.” Ultra Magnus said, finally acknowledging them all. Of course, him immediately turning away and walking back inside practically undid that gesture.

“With pleasure, sir!” Sentinel calls at Ultra Magnus’ retreating back. 

He got the feeling that Sentinel was still possibly experiencing some “frag off and die” sentiments from his letter about Blackarachnia. Just a little bit. But Sentinel started to walk back onto the ship with just a quick gesture and a “follow me” to everyone. They walk over in silence, Sentinel’s ramrod straight posture an almost comedic opposite to Jazz’s easy saunter. Just looking at them reminded Optimus of an Earth movie Sari had played for them once, where each character moved to the beat of the music. 

After a few minutes of walking, Sentinel stops at a door and points at Optimus. “This’ll be where you’ll get decontaminated. I’ll take care of it in just a little bit, Jazz’ll wait with you in the meantime until I’m done with your crew.”

Jazz looks surprised for a split second before composing himself and makes a half bow to Optimus. “After you, Prime.”

Optimus heads into the room, where there’s several medical examination tables and a few comfortable looking chairs. He chooses a chair, not wanting to be up on another table like that so soon.

Before they make it all the way in the room, Jazz turns back to Sentinel.

“You sure you don’t want me to just disinfect him, sir? Wouldn’t be much of a bother.”

“Ultra Magnus ordered me to decontaminate them Jazz, so that’s what I’ll be doing.” Sentinel grinds out, apparently not appreciative of his orders being questioned.

If Jazz says anything in response, Optimus can’t hear it. But the door closes behind them only a second later as they look around the room, seeming to light up when they spot Optimus. Jazz grabs another chair and drags it over closer to where Optimus is sitting so they can get a better look at him. Or, that’s what he’s assuming at least.

“So, you and Sentinel?” Jazz asks, expression unidentifiable with that visor on. Optimus had gotten rather good with reading Prowl’s expressions, but Jazz was still an unknown to him.

“Me and Sentinel what?” He responds, optics narrowed slightly. 

“Nothin’ nothin’, just never seen Sentinel so eager to have a one-on-one with someone. He’s not exactly the friendliest member of the Guard, if you catch my drift.”

Optimus exvents, that sounds like Sentinel alright. Making plans to take the position of Magnus without making a single ally amongst his coworkers.

“It may come as a surprise, but I think I could count myself among his friend list. Or at least, I could have at some point.”

Jazz leans in for a second, their face scrunched in a way that suggests they’re looking for something on Optimus’ own faceplates, likely a “kick me” sign for his admission. After a second though, they light up and lean back.

“Oh, you’re _ that _ Optimus Prime? Can’t believe I’d forgotten about you.”

That...wasn’t necessarily a good thing. In fact it probably wasn’t a good thing. The days of when Sentinel had only slightly negative things to say about him are probably a thousand stellar cycles in the past.

“What do you mean by _ that _ ?” He stresses the “that” in the same way that Jazz had, prompting a small laugh. 

“Nothin’ bad, I swear. He just spoke about you at your funeral’s all.”

Optimus freezes, trying to think of when and why he would have a _ funeral _. It was his reputation that was in pieces, not him.

“I had a funeral? And...Sentinel spoke at it?”

Jazz nods an affirmative. “Sure did, about fifty stellar cycles back. You and your crew got a service back on Cybertron, nothin’ big or anything like that, but yeah. Sentinel spoke at it, he was the first speaker come to think of it. He didn’t have much to say about your crew, but he had a lot of good things to say about you. If there was anything bad he had to say, he held it in til he got to Maccadam’s. Bot didn’t come out or go to work for three solar cycles, under any other circumstances I’d’ve been impressed.”

Fifty stellar cycles...that would have been when his crew first found the AllSpark and fought with Megatron. It makes sense that Cybertron would have a funeral with them over that, a bunch of space bridge repair bots didn’t stand much of a chance against Decepticon scouts, let alone their elite. So Sentinel had believed him to be dead and the first word otherwise that he had gotten from Optimus himself had been the news about Elita. He’s sure that it was a shock on top of an unpleasant surprise, although he wasn’t sure which piece of news was which. He was a lot more understanding on why Sentinel hadn’t responded, though he was no less frustrated by it.

“Oh. Thank you, for telling me that.” Optimus’ voice wavers as he digests all of the information. 

Jazz gives him a sympathetic look, before patting his shoulder and rising up to their pedes.

“I’ll leave you alone for a bit and go and see what’s keepin’ Sentinel.”

That wasn’t a request, but Optimus nods anyway as Jazz passes through the doors, looking at the ground as soon as he sees the doors close. He hopes it takes Sentinel a while to make his way over here, he has a lot to think about.

\------

After ordering Optimus’s crew into the decontamination chamber, Sentinel takes a second to leer at them before adjusting the disinfectant spray to its maximum-and harshest-setting. Without any warning, he turns the spray on and gets to hear the offended and irritated shrieks of the maintenance bots as they are thoroughly sprayed down. Well, the parts of them that were getting hit would _ certainly _ be clean, but he didn’t want to spend enough time with these scrap heaps to do a thorough cleaning. Ultra Magnus never said it had to be a complete decontamination, after all. 

Part of his actions were a way of unwinding, life as Ultra Magnus’ second in command was beyond stressful and tested the very limits of his considerable patience and skill. Aside from the occasional verbal jab at a lazy Intelligence officer though, there wasn’t much more to do to work of stress by way of physical venting. Besides, who better to use than this crew of spare parts?

He took no small amount of joy watching the two bots he had trained flinch at the unrelenting blast, there was always a limit with discipline within the Autobot Academy, but now he could give them some of the pain they had inflicted on him in the mental and physical sense. But there was one reason, one very important reason that was key to all of this. Key to him lowering the intensity of the disinfectant so they could hear him bark, “You! With the visor, step out from the overgrown lug!”

The lug in question looked behind himself sadly before the visored bot stepped out and started to get just as drenched as their companions. After a second longer of the slightly gentler stream, his two disappointments turn to each other to say something that Sentinel was able to make out.

“I don’t think he remembers us.”

“And that’s just how I wanna keep it.”

Did they think he was stupid? That his memory was so defective he couldn’t go back just a couple hundred stellar cycles and see the humiliation that they put him through while he was their instructor? Him not knowing their names, or singling them out was a test of restraint rather than any sort of glitch in his memory. If they had been worth anything at all, he would have remembered their names, like Ironhide, Longarm, or even that traitor Wasp. But bots that don’t amount to anything aren’t worth the effort. That had been something he had picked up from Elita at the Academy, when she called him “you with the big chin” after thirty stellar cycles of working closely with him. The ones who weren’t worth your time would get weeded out either naturally, or personally until they were worth it.

But the reason he doesn’t respond to them, even as he ramps the intensity back up, and moves towards them to glower and, when their protests and cries get more pointed with his closeness, smirk, is that they don’t deserve it. More than just the sorry, bottom of the barrel maintenance scrap barely held together that they are, they are the reason that for fifty long stellar cycles he thought that Optimus had died. 

For fifty stellar cycles he had grieved, mourned, and felt like there was no purpose to his actions. Like he was just going through the motions of fulfilling his dreams and aspirations because if he to think about the partner left behind and the friend taken from him he would no longer have any reason to keep going. His career was a one way trip to the top essentially, but until he had gotten that transmission from Optimus, every step had felt empty. If Optimus’ crew had done what they were supposed to and stood their ground and protected their leader to the best of their abilities, Optimus would have at least had the chance to get away. To Optimus, he probably hadn’t seen Sentinel for only a few solar cycles, but to him, there was now a gap. A gap he had no idea how to bridge and he was determined to never forgive the space bridge repair crew for their part in putting it there. He was more than capable of holding a grudge for longer than a thousand stellar cycles, this was nothing.

But suddenly the disinfectant spray stops and Sentinel and the other Autobots turn to see Jazz, with one of their digits still firmly pressing against the power button of the spray. Before Sentinel can do more than glare at the insubordination and open his mouth angrily. Jazz releases the button to hold up both servos in a placating gesture.

“Sorry Sentinel, they looked clean to me. Besides, I left Optimus all alone to come see what was taking you so long. Poor bot was starting to get lonely without you.” Jazz says, lowering their servos slowly like Sentinel could still snap at them. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But even with the useless excuse of Autobots expressing their indignation that their commanding officer could ever “miss” Sentinel, painfully audible now that the room was almost completely still, he felt his temper most cool over. As Jazz had said, he had other matters to deal with and no one in the room came close to matching that priority.

Sentinel doesn’t say a word to anyone as he makes his way to the door, but as they open for him he turns on his heel to point at Jazz.

“In the future, it is Sentinel and Optimus _ Prime _ to you, Jazz,” he grinds out, with the thinnest layer of politeness and patience in his voice. “You’re an Elite Guard member, act like it and respect your superiors.”

After saying that piece, he turns back and leaves without another word, choosing to ignore the light sarcasm in Jazz’s voice as they shoot of a response of “yes, sir”, most likely complete with a salute not up to proper standards. Honestly, the kind of bot that makes it into the Elite Guard really doesn’t say much about the prestige of the position anymore, does it.

As he walks down the halls, he lets some of the tension loose from his frame. He’s irritated and annoyed beyond comprehension at Optimus of course, but it’s the sort of annoyance that will ease up over time. Because now that they’ve reunited they can work on a new plan to get Sentinel to where he needs to be, so Optimus can come back and stand at his side, where he should be. Where he should’ve been now.

He looks at the closed door to where Optimus is at, just staring for a moment. He was hardly the type of bot to get cold pedes about anything, but...it had been an awfully long time since he had seen Optimus. A much longer time to have seen Optimus when he hadn’t had some sort of negative feelings directly targeted at him. It would still be some time for that last one, but he was Ultra Magnus’ own second in command of the Autobot Elite Guard. He was tough, resourceful, clever, and above all...still standing outside of the door making no move to enter. Well, courage never was easy, he thought as he keyed into the door to open it for him.

And courage is exactly what he would need for this.

\---------

Optimus’ head jerks up hearing the door his and sees Sentinel walk in. His face was stern, his eyes looking not quite at Optimus as he comes over to the same chair that Jazz had sat in, moving it slightly closer as he pulls out a cleaning cloth and disinfectant spray from his subspace. From the looks of it, it was the same brand as the stuff Sentinel had used on his gear and plating as a cadet, something that he and Elita had purchased pooling their respective small paychecks for a nice gift to surprise Sentinel with. As Sentinel reaches for Optimus’ arm, he realizes sinkingly that Sentinel still had yet to say a single word to him this whole time. 

After Sentinel finishes cleaning carefully over Optimus’ arm and moves on to gently cleaning and disinfecting Optimus’ right servo, the silence is suddenly broken.

“Ultra Magnus never should have let you leave Cybertron.” Sentinel says quietly, his optics not moving from where they rested at the servo being gently massaged with the cloth.

Optimus doesn’t quite know what to say to that. In all the worst imagined things he had thought about Sentinel greeting him with, swears, frigid silence, or barbed words that stung the more of them were strung together, he hadn’t never come close to imagining Sentinel saying anything along those lines. His processor races for a second, trying to think of what would be the appropriate response now.

“Well, if I hadn’t, my crew probably wouldn’t be here.” He finally manages, speaking just slightly louder than Sentinel. From the slightly tightened grip on his arm and the narrowed look Sentinel gives his servo, like it had personally wronged him in the last solar cycle, Optimus guesses that this wasn’t the correct response to give. 

“If you had been able to stay, I never would’ve almost lost you.” Sentinel chokes out, the words initially sounding so ground together and harsh, combining with the low volume they were spoken in, made it hard for Optimus understand.

But when he did, he quietly exvented with understanding of the words and their meaning behind that gesture. For all of Sentinel’s anger, most likely still simmering, he had...missed Optimus. Maybe it was in part due to his supposed death those stellar cycles ago, or maybe it had been the gaping physical distance between them and the mess of their once friendship that had him feeling this way. Regardless, Optimus could understand and were it not under such circumstances, even be glad of it. He enjoyed Earth well enough, and he cared for the Autobots under his care more and more each day that they spent together on the planet, but Sentinel had been his first friend and there was something special about that particular bridge that made Optimus glad that it wasn’t yet dissolved.

After a long pause Optimus begins to speak again, with Sentinel having moved on to his other arm in the meantime.

“I see...While you were off taking care of my crew Jazz told me something. They said that, Cybertron thought I died and that we all got a funeral.” He doesn’t say anymore than that, not wanting to put words in Sentinel’s mouth. When they were cadets, there was very little that could get Sentinel more riled up than assumptions (and misunderstandings).

Sentinel snorts, his movements with the cloth slowing down as he stops to reapply some disinfectant.

“Jazz sure does have a problem keeping their mouth shut sometimes. But...they were right. We didn’t get any signal or comm from your ship to let us know that you were alive. So after a few solar cycles of silence, we held a vigil.” Sentinel stubbornly avoids Optimus’ gaze as he moves on to the left servo. “I...was the only one who knew you well enough to speak really. So I was the obvious choice to be approached to speak, the best choice really.”

“Oh of course.” Optimus says lightly, not sure if this was something he would be able to play along with. But from the grateful look Sentinel gives him, the closest to direct optic contact the two had had in all this time, he could tell his agreement had been welcome.

“I had already fully intended on speaking, but it was nice knowing that I was the best candidate.” Sentinel shoots him a crooked smile. “I’m told it was a pretty good speech all things considered.”

Optimus can’t help it, he laughs. It jostles the cloth slightly, but it’s not polish so it’s hardly a problem.

“Well I’m relieved to hear it. Think I would’ve woken out of hibernation in a panic if you had managed to humiliate me at my own funeral.”

Sentinel looks offended for a split instant. “Clearly you don’t remember me as well as you’d like, if you think that I can’t give a good speech _ and _ humiliate you in the same sentence. It made Kup cry you know. But I’ll let you decide if it was over pretty words or having to look at me again.”

Optimus snorts, Kup had never been the sort to mock cadets for their appearance, but even he hadn’t been able to resist making a few digs at Sentinel for his chin.

“There’s no way you made Kup cry, I don’t believe it.”

“Sorry old buddy, guess you would have had to be there to believe it.” Optimus can feel the smugness oozing off of that sentence as Sentinel continues to work at his servo, unable to come up with a sufficient retort and feeling the smugness grow at the silence that followed.

After a moment of comfortable silence, broken only by the sounds of the cloth running over Optimus’ servo again and again in a soothing pattern, he realizes that there is something they need to talk about. The big “elephant in the room” as Sari would put it. He wishes it could wait, but he just had to check.

“Sentinel?” He asks, trying to keep the light tone from before in his voice. Judging by the unbothered humming sound Sentinel gives in response, his attention split between Optimus and the continued motion of the cloth, he guesses he succeeds well enough.

“I wanted to talk to you about my last communication-about Elita-”

The nice touch on his servo disappears as Sentinel pulls away with a shake of his head.

“Not now Optimus, not while I’m still happy to see you. Later maybe, when this is done we can talk about this and other important things.” Important things of Magnus proportion, most likely.

While he’s still worried about the conversation points covered in that “later”, a large part of him is beyond relieved, beyond happy that Sentinel is glad to see him. 

“I missed you too, Sentinel.” He replies, their words are different, but they have the same meaning.

Sentinel smiles at him before subspacing the cloth and bottle and gesturing to the door.

“Let’s not keep Ultra Magnus waiting any longer, then.” Sentinel says, tone full of long-suffering exhaustion. 

Optimus laughs again, letting it echo in the corridor before them.

\------

As soon as he catches sight of his crew and vice versa, Bumblebee waves for him to head over before sheepishly realizing that Ultra Magnus could see every move he made. When Optimus moves close enough, Bumblebee leans in to quietly whisper to him.

“Yo, bossbot, you alright?”

“I’m fine Bumblebee, how are you guys?”

Bumblebee makes a face of disgust. “Squeaky clean,” he mutters.

Optimus doubts they got the same...focused treatment that he did, but he hopes that neither side riled each other up too far. The last thing they need is to make a scene in front of Ultra Magnus, who Optimus was beginning to realize seems to thrive having some sort of high ground over everyone else at any point he could. It was honestly as intimidating as it was funny.

“I cleaned them up as best I could sir, as ordered.” Sentinel said, his posture having no trace of that easy gentleness from earlier.

“Very good, Sentinel Prime. We’ve wasted enough of our limited time and precious resources tracking down these stragglers.” Ultra Magnus switches his gaze from Sentinel to Optimus. “So if it’s all the same, we’ll simply retrieve the AllSpark and be on our way.”

Ah. That would be a problem. A rather large problem, broken into several smaller problems.

“Yeah...about the AllSpark,” Bumblebee haltingly tries to explain, drawing out his words. Optimus is grateful that he’s not the one to have to say it, but he does feel a great deal of sympathy for Bumblebee. He’ll take a page out of Sentinel’s book and speak at length at Bumblebee’s funeral.

“Funny story, uh, sir. It kinda-kinda sorta…”

“Blew up.” Bulkhead finishes, causing Bumblebee to wince. Well, it was now all in the open now.

In almost perfect unison, Jazz, Ultra Magnus, and Sentinel’s faces drop into varying stages of shock.

“What.” Ultra Magnus says, his voice ever so slightly higher as he says so. After a second he seems to calm down, but not by much. “The AllSpark, it’s _ destroyed _?”

Optimus can’t let Bumblebee or anyone else try to explain it now, he steps forward to try to mitigate the reactions.

“Not exactly destroyed, sir. It’d be more accurate to say that the energy was...dispersed.” At least...that’s what he thinks happened. But he was going to keep that last part to himself. 

Sentinel turns an outraged look at the Autobots behind Optimus. “Which one of you _ glitchheads _ was responsible for this?!”

Optimus holds out a servo, causing Sentinel’s gaze to shoot to him. Which was just excellent really.

“It wasn’t any one bot’s fault. It was...a series of events that caused it.” A series that they had been heavily involved in, a sentence that goes unspoken but not unheard.

Sentinel’s optics narrow, “I don’t believe this Optimus, you let them do this?! You had the AllSpark in your custody and you just...let it break?!” he shrieks in hysteria and anger. 

Optimus just takes it silently, he probably should have taken the time to not get focused on Sentinel’s servos on him and actually...communicated this. 

“Hey!” Ratchet cuts in, “He’s a slaggin’ hero for keeping it from Megatron and the Decepticons.” 

Sentinel’s glare drops in frigidity as he looks to Ratchet instead. “Stand down, rustbucket.” He throws a servo out in a shooing motion, or like an invisible sort of barrier between Optimus and Ratchet on who he was actually willing to deal with. It wasn’t even fully directed at Optimus and he felt insulted, especially on Ratchet’s behalf.

“We did a sweep of the entire planet before landing,” Sentinel says marching closer and putting his face right into Optimus and Ratchet’s personal space. It was nowhere near as welcome as it had been earlier. Optimus pulls back just slightly, causing Sentinel’s scowl to deepen. “Not one trace of Decepticon energy signatures to be found.”

“That’s cause we kicked their sorry solonoids!” Bumblebee yells, shoving himself into Sentinel’s space as much as Sentinel was in Optimus and Ratchet’s.

Sentinel pulls back, a smirk smearing itself on his face. Optimus had always hated that smirk.

“You expect us to believe that a bunch of rusted out bots and an Elite Guard washout could take down Megatron?” Again, Optimus feels just as offended not being lumped in with the rest. He could do without being reminded of just why he was the washout when the one who got off much easier was standing right in front of him.

Sentinel invents for a second, before getting into a posture that Optimus was familiar with, but not from Sentinel. It was right from Kup, the “let’s find out just how much trouble you’re in” pose. 

“Alright then, where’s your proof?” he says, smirk still on his face. Personally, Optimus thinks it’s more effective without the smirk. “Show me just one shred of proof that the AllSpark wasn’t destroyed because of your actions.” He’s looking at Bumblebee and his words are for the group as a whole, but Optimus still realizes that he’s not getting the full brunt of it. He’s one sentence away though from making a remark about Sentinel’s chin and duking it out with him like they’re cadets, regardless of if Ultra Magnus was watching.

“You have my word.” He spits out, stepping back in front of his crew. Sentinel looks at him, a clear “what are you _ doing _ ” on his faceplate. Ultra Magnus still hasn’t said a word. After a second Sentinel throws his servos up in the air. “I cannot _ believe _ you sometimes, Optimus!” After a second of grumbling he cuts himself off and just huffs.

Bulkhead looks concerned before leaning closer to Optimus. “C’mon bossbot, why don’t you just stand up for yourself?”

Sentinel laughs, suddenly back to being relaxed again. “Because he knows his place!” He says before freezing and looking at Optimus.

Optimus looks back at him.

From behind their visor, Jazz stares at them both.

From next to Bulkhead, Ratchet buries his face in his servo. “Ohhh youngbots,” he mutters.

Faceplate heating up, Optimus tries to ignore that. He tries to move past what Sentinel just said even more.

Thankfully missing the implications, Bulkhead yells loudly enough that Optimus’ audials ring, “How ‘bout I put you in your place?!”

He lunges at Sentinel, with Prowl who had tried to stop him swung along for the ride. But with the considerable help of Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Prowl, Optimus is able to keep Bulkhead away from Sentinel with one arm. The other arm’s being used to keep Sentinel at bay, who in comparison only has the entire weight of Jazz splayed out in front of him, like they’re trying to stop a freight train. Optimus knows from experience that a freight train wishes it had Sentinel’s resistance to being stopped when he had decided on doing something.

He glances briefly at Sentinel, only to notice Sentinel’s optics flicking from Optimus’ servo on his chest to his face. He can feel his faceplate heating up again as he looks away. All of a sudden, there’s a long clang that has him snatching his servo away from Sentinel like its been burnt.

“Stand down, all of you!” Ultra Magnus orders. Optimus realizes with a feeling of dread that they had indeed just made a scene in front of their commander. He hopes that Ultra Magnus hadn’t cared to pay attention to every detail of the conversation just a minute ago, he really truly hopes so.

“These are serious accusations and they _ will _ be investigated,” Ultra Magnus continues. “Optimus Prime, show us where this supposed Decepticon battle took place. Your crew is to remain here until we’ve returned from settling this matter.”

So it was going to be him, Sentinel, and Ultra Magnus on Earth, he was already looking forward to it ending.

Sentinel moves back over at the bottom of the stairs closest to Ultra Magnus and salutes. “The Earth vehicles I scanned upon arrival shouldn’t attract any undo attention towards us, sir.”

Ultra Magnus nods, “Well done, Sentinel Prime. Transform!” He orders, transforming into...an Earth military grade vehicle.

Sentinel was no better, changing into a snow plow when Detroit was still far from the temperatures needed to form snow. Optimus _ really _wishes Sentinel had talked with him, if only to save him from this growing sense of second hand embarrassment. But he keeps his thoughts to himself, transforming into his much less obvious alt mode, leading his friend and the supreme commander of the Autobot forces off their ship and out to their destination.

\------

The time after their departure passes in a blur, but one that reminds Optimus strongly of his Academy days. He offers Sentinel advice, Sentinel retorts with something along the lines of “don’t tell me what to do” and proves Optimus right with Elita laughing at him nearby. They always were much better studying together than they were with combat practice. But thankfully this isn’t any real malice in Sentinel acting out, he just...doesn’t want to defer to Optimus’ superior knowledge in this case. Most likely because he wants to spend the least amount of time on Earth as he can and he thinks that his way is much faster than Optimus’. It’s understandable, but no less tiring.

There’s no sign of Decepticon activity for now, which is incredibly frustrating. But the chance to fight back to back with Sentinel for the first time in so long, against the rogue Sumdac police bots, with Ultra Magnus himself acting as their support is such a welcome change that he can almost put it behind him, at least for a little bit. If anything, it makes the whole thing seem even more like a fevered recharge dream.

But any lingering daze he had over working with the Elite Guard is finally completely drained when he realizes the danger that Sari’s in once her key is unable to be pulled through.

“That panel’s gonna overload!” He yells, reaching to move and shield Sari only to have his arm snatched. It seems like Sentinel had followed their group into the factory.

“Optimus,” Sentinel says, tugging on him gently but urgently, “you said it yourself, the panel’s going to explode, get away from the blast range!” 

There was a good chance that the blast could certainly damage them, but most likely wouldn’t offline either of them, and they both knew it. But Sentinel still looked at him with an almost pleading gaze, for Optimus to tuck tail and run away. Optimus wouldn’t do that, not again, not when he could do something about it.

“Sentinel, _ please _ !” He hisses out, “let me fix this. I can’t leave like this, I can’t leave _ her _. Just-trust me, please.”

Sentinel looks at Sari in confusion, fear, and another emotion that Optimus dreaded to realize was disgust. They were going to need to have a _ long _ conversation after this. But to his relief, Sentinel nods and lets go of Optimus’ arm.

“Alright, I trust you. Now don’t do anything stupid, alright Optimus?”

Optimus smiles in relief. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Sentinel.”

With that said, he draws out his axe and does something more than stupid. He cleaves the panel into three chunks, not really knowing what it would do. But it does the job well enough, not blowing up and although it sends Sari to the ground, she’s up in no time with a huffed “a little warning next time, maybe?” pointed at Optimus. 

Sentinel stares at Optimus, before his gaze is torn to something else that broke loose when Optimus used his best judgement.

“What’s that?” Sentinel says in awe, almost captivated by the shining fragmented shard, looking unlike anything he had seen on Earth so far.

Optimus bends down to get it, passing it off into Sentinel’s servos for inspection only a second later.

“I think...that’s called ‘proof’.'' He says, relieved when Sentinel accepts the response with a small smile.

As they leave the building and make their way over to Ultra Magnus and the other Autobots, Optimus feels Sentinel staring at him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Sentinel lies. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, there were a lot of those things out there today.” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper as he leans closer to Optimus, “you look good when you’re fighting, you know.”

Optimus stops dead in his tracks, only jolted into movement at the sound of Sentinel’s laugh, he could not _ believe _ this. Well, he more than could, it was just almost surreal that through everything, that had happened, everything they had been through during and since the Academy, Sentinel was not only still possibly interested in him, but was outpacing Optimus by leagues in terms of expressing that interest. He’d...have to catch up with that at some point when he could get his vents and fans under control.

But when Sentinel hands the fragment to Ultra Magnus, the two of them are back to acting like nothing happened as they stand to near attention. After a long pause of inspection, the shard is pulled away from Ultra Magnus’ faceplate.

“It certainly appears to be a fragment of the AllSpark,” He starts, ignoring the loud exvent of relief Optimus’ Autobots let out at that statement. “it seems your statement about it being shattered and dispersed may not be that unbelievable after all.”

Sentinel also lets out a small sound of relief at that, causing Ultra Magnus to turn to him.

“Sentinel Prime, I observed much on the battlefield today. It seems you were right, Optimus Prime may not be an Elite Guard member, but in the heat of battle he exhibited true characteristics of leadership: strategic planning, determination, and most important _ loyalty _. Something I am relieved to notice that you were able to exhibit as well today.”

Optimus didn’t want to begin to imagine just how complicated the relationship must be with those two, to have a second in command who exhibited loyalty rarely enough for it to be publicly commended when he did display it. He was just grateful that it had been him that Sentinel had shown that loyalty for rather than leaving him without that shield for cover. He was also touched knowing that Sentinel had spoken on his behalf to Ultra Magnus apparently. Optimus looked over him, to do something. But Sentinel was looking at the ground with his face plastered with embarrassment at the simultaneous callout and praise.

For what felt like the thousandth time today, Optimus smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to have to take a bit of a break after this chapter to focus on university work and tfcon dc prep, but that does not mean that I will stop uploading. I just need more time in between chapters to get other things done.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! Every single person that's reviewed so far, know that I would die for you.


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